Otis apparently understood the point of the remark, and felt it, too; but he made no reply. In a few minutes a merry shout announced the approach of Ronald, and he soon appeared, with the lost veil fastened to his straw hat. He claimed the privilege of wearing it home, which Kate readily granted; but before the party came in sight of the log cabin, he concluded to surrender it to its owner.
Going down the mountain proved almost as difficult and exciting as climbing up, and many a slip and tumble happened to one and another, on the way. Sometimes a low branch across the path, bent from its place and then let loose by one, would bring up the boy behind with a whack that made him see stars. By one of these flying limbs Otis had his cap suddenly removed from his head, and whirled over a precipice, lodging in the top of a tall tree below. The disaster was followed by a prolonged and hearty shout from those who witnessed it, and the others hastened to the spot, to see what the matter was.
“I’ll get it for you, Oty—I can climb that tree easy enough,” exclaimed Ronald, as soon as he comprehended the extent of the mishap.
“No,” said Marcus, with assumed gravity, “let him get his cap himself—it will make him more careful next time.”
“I don’t see what boys wear caps for; they are always losing them,” remarked Kate, the fun in her eyes but half concealed.
“It wasn’t my fault—I couldn’t help it,” replied Otis, with the utmost seriousness. “Ronald let the branch fly right into my face, and it took my cap off before I knew it was coming.”
“Well, if Ronald is to blame, I think we shall have to send him after the cap,” said Marcus.
They made their way, with some difficulty, to the spot where the tree stood. Ronald, being a more expert climber than any of the others, was entrusted with the job, and ascended the tree almost with the agility of a squirrel. He took with him a pole, and with its aid the cap was soon dislodged, and sent to the ground below.
No further incidents of importance befell the party, on their descent of the mountain. Mr. Gooden did not manifest himself to them, as they passed his cabin; and none of his family were visible. They reached their home, tired and hungry, in season to get a view of the signal they had raised, after the sun had sunk behind Prescott’s Peak; and there the tall sapling stood, for a long time afterwards, reminding them of their pleasant tramp “up the mountain.”